#mention of geofferaut

[blackrose-ffxiv]

Curiosity and Cattes 07/12

Rinha'li Dhavha peeks in before actually stepping inside, as though vaguely expecting an ambush. "Are...are you writing?" he asks.

Lebeaux Desrosiers waved Rinha’li in and reached over to pat the spot on the window ledge beside himself. The drapes had already been drawn closed over the windows, leaving the room dark enough to be comfortable for the keeper. Lit only by the candles and soon joined by the gentle glow of Lebeaux’s pipe. “I was marking some final notes. I’ve just finished a little volunteer work over in Limsa Lominsa and wished to record the results while they were still fresh in my mind.”

“V...v-volunteer work?” Rinha'li does not sit down for the moment. He appears to be weighing the pros and cons of this decision

Lebeaux is keeping his hands busy with the pipe and quill for the time being. Though there’s no guarantee they won’t roam after he’s grown bored of smoking. The medic slid the journal out of the way to make room for the miqo’te nonetheless, fingers wiggling airily at the tea set to indicate Rin should help himself. He exhaled a cloud of fragrant smoke. “Geofferaut was being stubborn and holding my precious darlings hostage. I needed to find a handful of subjects that wouldn’t be missed.” Lebeaux explained calmly. “Where better than Limsa. A volunteer term at a free clinic and a few rum-addled sailors later… our research can continue.”

Rinha'li sits down a few solid feet from Lebeaux. "Is it corpses you need, or living subjects?"

“Both, really.”

Rinha'li sniffs at the tea to ascertain it doesn't contain anything unexpected. He wrinkles his nose, though it seems to be more at his thoughts than the scent. "Pirates are easy t-to pay," he says. "You c-can find volunteers out there, I'm sure. Reckless folk with...short enough lives as it is."

The Tea is a simple enough black tea. Though a few liquor bottles sit nearby should one wish to add ‘something unexpected’. His own smells like brandy. Strongly. “A waste of budget. There’s no need to pay them when they’ll sign up willingly, that’s capital better spent in further research and development. Unless you’re hiding the passbook to a vast fortune in one of those threadbare pockets.”

Rinha'li Dhavha's nose very slightly un-wrinkles. Honestly, he wasn't expecting Lebeaux to look for volunteers at all. Maybe just flinging a sack over someone's head in an alley. "What are you promising, though?" he asks. "A miracle cure? I thought you required healthful subjects."

Lebeaux shook his head as he tilted his head back, exhaling small clouds of smoke as he idly tried to form them into rings as he’d seen others do. Discussing the matter with a languid sort of nonchalance, as though comparing notes on watching paint dry or something equally tedious. “The clinic I chose to volunteer at specializes in the nasty sorts of itches and rashes bored sailors pick up on shore leave.” He explained, his saintly smile quirking a little wickedly. “I hand picked a few then sent them along to Geofferaut to have their ailments cured with the assurance they would never have to worry about catching the same illness again.” He tilted his head slightly to loft a brow at Rinha’li, as though expecting some sort of praise for his ingenuity before he resumed his attempts at smoke rings.

Rinha'li watches the smoke blowing in vaguely circle-like clouds, collecting around Lebeaux's head before it disperses.  He seems to be pondering how much he cares about sailors. "What are you, um...expecting t-to get out of this research, precisely, Mister Lebeaux?" he asks, suddenly. "It's an odd line of...inquiry for s-someone of...your, um...for someone like you. Or...such is my impression, anyway."

“We went through so much effort to collect those samples.” He insisted. “Blood and sweat… well, most of those were yours.” He exhaled a humorless chuckle as he leaned back to settle on one of the sitting pillows with an elbow propping himself up. “It would be a shame to let them shrivel up and die. The research must go on. For the research to continue, there must be subjects.” He explained matter-of-factly. “Which is something I wanted to ask you about. What have you found to be the most effective way of purging voidtaint from living beings.”

Rinha'li flicks his ears. "I...um. It...it d-depends upon the nature of the 'taint', r-really. Many such....'c-contaminations' fade once exposure is...discontinued. In s-some cases, an...excision of aether, or in extreme c-cases of corporeal matter affected. Or, um ...destruction or dispatchment of the...s-source.  That's, um...t-the most effective way, usually, but it requires a little more...well, it's not easy. N-not if you want the victim t-to be alive at the end of it. “

Lebeaux nodded thoughtfully, occasionally letting his attention drift over to the miqo’te though he mostly seemed to be watching the smoke clouds rising. “In our line of research, what do you hypothesize to be the most effective way of purging the void. We’re using an infectious host that exists for the sole purpose of taking over a healthy body and corrupting the humours to cause sickness. When we kill the host illness... will the void taint die as well or will it have spread too far by then… would you suspect. This is all, after all, entirely hypothetical.”

Rinha'li thinks for a long moment. "It's...d-difficult to say. Much depends on how extensive the illness is, and...how long it is allowed t-to fester. In theory, it OUGHT t-to...fade, once the source is obliterated. If you are, um...still using a minor void taint upon the illness in question, of course. I c-cannot speak for anything stronger.”

“Of course. So the stronger the initial exposure and the length of exposure would effect it greatly, I see.” Lebeaux mused thoughtfully. “I’ll keep that in mind. Perhaps as we continue research it would be wise to have that sort of development going on along the side. To be sure we always have a final solution should things get out of control.” He tilted his head to smile too sweetly at Rinha’li. “Speaking of. Why is it you’re still assisting.”

Rinha'li blinks at this. "Ought I not to?"

“Oh, your insight is invaluable. As well as your expertise in the subject.” Lebeaux practically purred as he sat up, shifting the pipe to take a slow drag of the strong smelling smoke. “However, I can’t help but wonder what it is you’re getting out of all of this.”

“Is intellectual curiosity not a sufficient enough motive, Mister Lebeaux? I could ask you the same question, of c-course. What brought you to THIS line of inquiry? What d-do you hope to gain from pursuing it?”

Lebeaux tapped the pipe’s stem thoughtfully against his lower lip. “What was that saying about curiosity and cats…” He teased lightly before he reached out to ruffle the miqo’te’s hair and ears without warning. “It began with the desire to develop a method to store and transfer aether. I believe I told you that when we first embarked on this journey. Yet as we proceed further along, it’s perfectly possible other applications will make themselves apparent along the way.”

@black-omen-born

[blackrose-ffxiv]

A Little Local Flavor 07/19

“I c-can make tea, also, I suppose, if you’re going to stay.” Rinha’li Dhavha offered reluctantly. On the desktop appears to be a map of the southern shroud, with several additional locations drawn on it in red and black ink. Charcoal lines are sketched between them, as though trying to sort out the outline of something that once stood there that is now marked only by ruins.

“You may as well. It is a rather long trip.” Lebeaux Desrosiers noted, waving a hand to dismiss Rin to task before his attention turned to the maps laid out on the desk. The medic reached for one, sliding it closer as he peered down his nose at them. “Marking lines between, if I recall the Shroud’s layout properly, ruins?” He mused as he hovered a finger over the lines as he traced them, unwilling to get charcoal on his fingertips. “These would be the remains of Amdapor, would they not? I thought your interests would lie closer to the saltmoors.”

Rinha'li moves to stop Lebeaux, then realizes he’s not actually touching his work. “Their histories are…intertwined, but Amdapor is…it is…” he trails off, not sure what to say about the topic. His life’s work? An obsession? A calling? “…of particular interest to me d-due to a number of personal factors,” he settles on. He makes his way to the door and confers with a passing employee of the coffee shop on the other side in quiet tones before retreating back into the library. “I’m…s-surprised you…recognize the area. It’s…n-not exactly well traveled by most.”

Lebeaux smiled lightly, pale eyes moving intently over the map. “I have some passing familiarity. It was the fascination of someone I knew previously. It became an obsession. It eventually consumed him.” He noted calmly. Actually, technically, it was an aggravated mud puddle that consumed him. But that was like the same thing, anyways. The medic reached for his glasses and slid them onto his nose before he flashed that saintly smile over at Rinha’li. “You’re not concerned you may fall into the same pattern, are you? You’re a far more reasonable sort I’m sure.”

Rinha'li cocks his head and regards Lebeaux warily, wondering if this is some kind of conversational trap. Of course, everything is a conversational trap with Lebeaux, so maybe it hardly matters. His interest almost immediately gets the better of him. “I…did not know you knew a scholar of the War of the Magi,” he says. “It is a topic that often leads t-to…um…strange circumstances.”

“Not as such.” Lebeaux noted as he settled onto Rinha’li’s desk chair as it was the closest to a light source, sitting with his back to it so he could observe the surrounding room. “I have only a passing familiarity, but something of an interest.” He noted. “The Amdapori practiced a sort of magic you don’t see very often anymore, didn’t they? Something similar to conjury, yet more powerful. Their white magic?”

Rinha'li frowns as Lebeaux sits down at HIS workspace – doesn’t he know not to do that? So rude – but is distracted by the arrival of tea, and Lebeaux’s mention of white magic. “…yes,” he says in a hushed sort of tone. “It’s…not practiced anymore, save b-by the horned children the Gridanians revere, or so it is claimed.” He brings the tea over, and tries to act casual. “Who was this…individual who lost himself?”

Lebeaux tilted his head and wrinkled his nose slightly. “I’ve seen one who is capable of it.” And proceeded to demonstrate in his face. “Perhaps once we’ve stabilized the other research it could be another avenue of investigation. Trying both sides of the spectrum to find a balance.” He noted offhandedly, waiting patiently for the tea to be brought to him. “An Isghardian scholar researching methods of improving aether control. He felt Amdapor and perhaps even Gelmorra held the keys to unlocking potential. Is that your interest as well?”

“…you’ve m-met a mage of the white who wasn’t a padjal? Rinha’li’s ears tilt forward, and for the moment he ignores the rest of the question

Lebeaux nodded. “A troublesome sort in Gridania. One of their trumped up ‘Hearers’, a hyuran boy.” He explained calmly, the serene smile remaining perfectly in place as a brow lifted slightly. “Potentially a valuable subject to research if that’s truly your interest.”

Rinha'li stops, thinks, and tries to steady himself and disguise his excitement. How would Lebeaux even KNOW he’d seen true white magic? He was very likely to be either lying or mistaken. “I should like to meet him, yes,” he says. “Though I…um. Typically I have n-not gotten along well with…G-Gridanian Hearers.” He rubs at one ear, indicating the tea tray. “There’s, um…there’s brandy, too.” Rinha'li sighs and takes a seat at the table he uses to mix ink. “…Aether control methods are not my…P-PARTICULAR area of interest. I am…I am interested in the city itself. Much of what they did, and who they were, has b-been…lost. Hidden away, in many cases.” He wrinkles his nose.

“You’ll likely not get on with this one either. He’s an ill-tempered brat and incredibly stubborn. Selfish to boot.” Lebeaux explained with absolutely zero awareness he could very well have been talking about himself. “Ohh? I’d say you were trying to butter me up. I’ll have brandy, cream and double sugar in my tea.” He noted, expecting Rinha’li to prepare it for him. He settled back in his chosen seat, resting his elbows back on the edge of the desk once he was sure they wouldn’t end up in ink or charcoal. “Historical rather than aetherical culture?” He sniffed. “A shame.” He had been hoping to have that Hearer taken care of. Permanently. Maybe dissected to see where his abilities came from, though vivisection would have been preferable.

Rinha'li pushes the tea tray towards Lebeaux pointedly, indicating the cream saucer and tasteful silver sugar bowl. “You c-could…say that,” he says. “Though they are intertwined. They s-seem t-to have had…a m-method by which they made their very walls to walk. And much of what they knew has b-been…deliberately suppressed.” Rinha'li pauses, considering for a moment. “I’m f-from there, you know,” he adds quietly. “The ruins.” Maybe this information will help convince Lebeaux to continue offering information.

Lebeaux tilted his head thoughtfully, though he still made no effort to reach for the tea service. “Brandy, cream and double sugar.” He reminded him with a small wave of his hand as his attention drifted briefly. His efforts to be rid of Marvik for good slipping away as Rinha’li seemed more interested in chasing his ancestral home. “And what would you do with such a method?” He mused with a smile. Rin’s moving castle, of course. 

Rinha'li nods at the description of the tea. Yes, that sounds dreadful and cloying, his opinion has not changed. “I would…” here, he finally stops. What WOULD he do? He was not an architect. He simply wanted to know how it worked. He wanted to know EVERYTHING. And his deepest desire in toying with the powers of Amdapor made for poor conversation. “….w-well, to start, I should like t-to see how such processes interact with aetherically active geometry forms employed by arcanima,” he says. “Imagine if…if you c-could build such glyphs into the very blueprints of buildings. If you c-could have them shift direction according to your will.”

Lebeaux blinked slowly, considering that. Sure he had heard about shifting walls. But more importantly, statues. His pale gaze flicked aside as he considered that. The towering statues of the Saints brought to life to march beside him when he brought revelation and redemption to Ishgard. Alright, maybe it wasn’t as stupid as he initially thought. “The one I mentioned, he had done some research and paid several visits to the ruins.” He noted slowly as he smiled at Rin. “I could perhaps be convinced to allow you to have a look at his grimoire. If it would help you reconnect with your roots.” Because he was just that sweet and considerate, wasn’t he.

Rinha'li cocks his head. “You…h-have a grimoire in your possession?” he asks. “I d-didn’t know you took much interest in…the aethero-mathematical arts.”

Lebeaux looked a little smug as he tilted his head at the question. “I’ll have brandy, cream, double sugar.” He repeated for the third and final time. Folding his arms lightly across his chest as he waited to continue the conversation until after he had his tea in hand.

Rinha'li stares at Lebeaux, then sighs and mixes the tea delicately, as though dealing with volatile compounds. He wrinkles his nose quite obviously at the amount of sugar and cream – unused to a rich diet, or even much of a diet at all, all of this would make him dreadfully sick. “I know Geoff has some ability b-but I do not know the general state of arcanima research in Isghard.”

Lebeaux accepts the tea with an entirely too-pleased smirk. “It’s developing, something of a newer interest so far as I know. I’ve not dabbled with it myself but I worked with one for some time. It certainly has its uses. Spreading illness and ailment throughout the body that can then be aetherically cleansed at will. The ability to cure or kill. It’s rather impressive.” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to allow you a look. So long as you allow me to accompany you on an expedition or two, once you’re prepared for it.”

Rinha'li cocks his head, not prepared for this offer. “An expedition into the Shroud?” he asks.

“You’re planning to revisit the ruins, are you not?” Lebeaux took a sip of the tea. “Not bad, could have used a bit more brandy.” Another sip showed he didn’t mind too terribly. “I would be interested in seeing it for myself. This is, after all, the subject that drove an otherwise reasonable and respectable man to madness. I wonder what’s buried amongst those moving stones that called to him. Though of course I wouldn’t be foolish to venture in on my own.” Lebeaux smiled too-sweetly at Rin. “Not without a local’s expertise to guide me.”    

@black-omen-born 

[blackrose-ffxiv]

House Derosiers Part 1 09/24

Gabineaux Liautroix is all smiles, like he doesn't notice Florimond's stupid fat bird crapping on his nice coat in this beautiful cathedral. Internally, he is screaming. Lebeaux might know that look, it's a common Ishgardian look after all. "Yes, blessed be Her name. Gilbert knows exactly where I live, if you let him know you're looking for me perhaps he'll join us next time. He must have had pressing matters."

“A pleasure to meet you both.” Lebeaux Desrosiers tilted his head to Gabineaux and Florimond. Politely not bringing up the bird desecrating an otherwise very nice robe either. Ishgardian manners all around. “I’m sure he did.” Or a ‘damsel’ to distress. “Good day to you both.”

Florimond Rochedalaix nodded to Lebeaux and bowed courteously to Geofferaut. “I'll remember next time. No touching.”

“Farewell Father Liautroix. Farewell Florimond." Geofferaut Derosiers replied with all of his standard enthusiasm. Which was, none at all.

Lebeaux snickered slightly again behind his hand before he cleared his throat and lowered it, turning at serene smile towards Geofferaut. “I don’t want to stay here any longer than I have to but I’ve injuries that make it impossible to travel at the moment. Can I rely on you to treat them?” He explained quietly.

"Yes."

“Are you staying in the city. I’d prefer not to remain out in public longer than I must.” He smiled calmly as he glanced around the sanctuary.

"Um. No."

Lebeaux exhaled a small huff of annoyance and sank down onto the pew, glad for the few moments to take weight off of his leg. “Finish your prayers, then we’ll figure something out.”

"I am finished."

Lebeaux tilted his head slightly to the side. So much for that break. “Then let’s go. I suspect your ‘office’ is closer than mine. And I’ll expect you not to mention to anyone that you saw me here.”

"There are three suitable locations for treatment without travel. The Supreme Sacred Tribunal for Inquisitory Doctrine. The Derosiers house. The Forgotten Knight."

“All of those require remaining within the City limits.” Lebeaux corrected, plainly uncomfortable with the idea. Or maybe uncomfortable due to injuries. Either way he shifted slightly and exhaled a slow sigh. The Tribunal was out. For sure. The Forgotten Knight could be safe enough. But. He was curious. Pale eyes shifted aside thoughtfully before he smiiiled. “I suspect the Derosiers House would suffice. Do you have supplies there?”

"Yes. Also I have supplies here."

“We’re not going to perform minor chirurgery in the sanctuary.” Lebeaux noted. “Nor in the street. We’ll go to House Derosiers.” The medic pushed himself up to his feet, taking a moment to ensure he was properly balanced.

"Do you require walking assistance."

Lebeaux snorted quietly in amusement at that. “That rather depends how quickly you’d like to make it there. I don’t suppose you’re hiding a crutch under your robes, are you.”

"No."

Lebeaux lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Then how are you going to assist me?”

"I will use my right arm to support a portion of your weight when you step on the injured leg."

Lebeaux smiled calmly as he blinked blankly for a few moments. “You are aware that would require contact, are you not?”

“Yes."

Lebeaux considered that further. Honestly, pride and stubbornness had gotten him up the stairs in the first place and they would carry him down just as well. Though slowly and painfully. Yet he was morbidly curious now. “Very well. You may assist me.” He finally agreed, complete with the haughty lift of his chin.

Geofferaut positioned himself at a healthy distance, reached out his right arm, and gripped Lebeaux's left arm from behind just below the armpit. He then applied upward pressure.

Lebeaux smirked somewhat, unsure what he had expected but this seemed appropriately awkward. Spindly fingers curled around his upper arm in an uncomfortable fashion, pulling on the limb. “I’m not sure this is quiet as effective as you think.” He noted calmly as he took a few limping steps to check.

Geofferaut adjusted the pressure to lift more on the injured foot's step. "I am aware of the maneuver's efficacy."

“Hmm, what would it be? Negligible?” Nonetheless it was amusing and allowed him to favor his uninjured leg as they went along step by hobbling step. Receiving only a few odd looks as they shuffled their way along the aisle to leave the cathedral and start the slow walk to House Derosiers.

"It is minimally effective for minimal effort and contact."

“Just so. It will have to do.”

@cellardoor-ffxiv

[blackrose-ffxiv]

Test Runs / Brotherly Pranks 11/29

Lebeaux Desrosiers circled back around the desk. He slid the tea towards himself but still didn’t drink it. “Right. Of course I’ll have more projects going forwards, for as long as you’re willing to cooperate.” He noted in response to Luke’s insistence that they were nothing less than perfect professionals, smiling in his best approximation of ‘warmly’ at Luke. He was certainly in a good mood. “Costs allowing.” He looked to Geofferaut. “Luke’s most recent work for me has been something very interesting indeed. Demonstrate a bit of Arcanima for him, Geofferaut.”

Geofferaut Derosiers rested his fingers against his book and focused on the tulips to Lebeaux's left. One of the flowers quivered for a moment before suddenly an violently turning inside out. It held it's form for an instant longer before the displaced structures gave way and it fell apart in the vase. The rest of the flowers were untouched.

Luke Gravespast continued to lean on the back of the chair, giving Lebeaux a warm grin in return - he seemed to not read the approximation of the smile as anything but honest and true, though his attention shifted to Geofferaut at the mention of arcanima.  A slight flatness hit his face, turning to watch the flowers then and whistling softly, a shift of footing hinting the man was slightly uncomfortable. "...Cripes... tha's impressive."

Geofferaut turned his same attention briefly toward Lebeaux... then blinked once and let his hand fall back to his side.

Lebeaux glanced aside to watch, quirking a dark brow. “My. You’ve been practicing.” He wasn’t quite sure that was a good thing. Nonetheless. The Chirurgeon sank back down into his seat. “As I said, accomplished arcanist. Now, then.” He smiiiiled as he shifted slightly, his hands moving to rest on the edge of the desk and a moment later there was a quiet ‘click’ before the room’s environment changed drastically. All of the ambient aether seemed to be drained away as though in a vacuum, trying to use one’s own aether would result in it being drained away as well. An uncomfortable sort of situation for mages who were practically steeped in the stuff.

Geofferaut's eyes widened when the click sounded. His hand shot to his book. His mouth worked, but sounds seemed to struggle coming out. "W-- where is it," he finally managed.

Luke shifted to watch the caster - and the blacksmith himself looked largely unaffected, leaning comfortably against the chair itself, sipping his tea as if there were no worries, no issues across the whole star for him at this moment. "Stored... drained?  But stored.  It returns easy 'nough, aye?"

Geofferaut gripped his book like a man drowning. "Where is it." The monotone remained, but the words came faster, harsher air behind them.

Lebeaux giggled at that reaction. While it would have been barely registered coming from most other people, such a reaction from Geoff was nearly as good as howling and throwing oneself on the ground. He was pretty damn pleased with it. “Go on, Geofferaut. Demonstrate a bit of arcanima again.” He suggested cheerfully as he grinned broadly enough for a dimple to appear in his left cheek, leaving the device on despite the uncomfortable way it made his head ache and skin crawl. “Don’t answer him, Luke.” He noted carefully. "What's the fun if you reveal the secret."

Luke continued to sip his tea, his arm casually over the chair's back and watching the arcanist.

Geofferaut's wide, wild eyes swiveled to Luke Gravespast. Luke Gravespast knew where it went. A gleaming blade slid out of his sleeve into his right hand. "Where is it."

Luke had created the very system that was draining and storing the aether away from the caster.  At the blade he didn't shift, though he did lean down, setting the teacup aside. "Nau' tellin'..."

Geofferaut began to move toward Luke, but his right leg seemed disinclined to cooperate. He stumbled and swerved against the post between windows. Unwilling to release his grip on book or blade, he fitfully pushed himself upright between left leg and post. "Where is it."

Lebeaux rose to his feet at the slight flash of steel. His hands still rested on the desktop, fingers curling underneath to switch the device back off. Though he let his finger rest on it just in case the other elezen decided to ‘demonstrate’ again. “Alright, that’s quite enough.” He declared, still grinning broadly. “What’s the matter, Geofferaut. Only a bit of aether dampening.”

Luke remained with the chair between himself and the caster, his hand having fallen onto one of the tools slung from his belt, hand on the hammer there. "Hellfires, still ain't tell, knife 'r nau'!  Put tha' slim-blade 'way."

Geofferaut righted himself quickly when the aether returned, eyes rounding on Lebeaux, neither grip showing any sign of relenting. "You." The eyes were doing something more than merely taking in information and the single word carried more intonation than normally found in an entire interview with Geofferaut (not a high bar to reach, but still).

Lebeaux grinned with delight at the entire situation unfolding in front of him. The stagger, carefully noted to be marked down later. The feral look in the elezen’s eyes. As well as Luke’s calm demeanor under pressure. As though having a blade pointed at him by a potentially deranged scarecrow was an everyday occurrence. A few stray giggles slipped out, even as Geofferaut turned to… glare?... at him. “Yes? I what…” He coaxed.

The fact that the blacksmith was fairly used to threats of violence couldn't be all that unusual given the areas he worked for in the Golden Fox.  But it might've been odd that instead of ducking he went for a weapon, improvised or not.  In fact, his hand still rested on the hammer, drawing it slowly to hand so that if there was a dash he had a chance of action.

Geofferaut's glower intensified. "We should have killed you a hundred times over by now." He fairly spat out the words before he dropped to a lilting mutter. Lines of aether drew, redrew, and crossed in the air in front of him, a twisting mandala of geometry forming.

Luke remained silent.  Like good help.  But the aether lines worried him, the blacksmith stepping a little to the side so he had a better chance of heading to the doorway.  Even if it was... locked.  Sweet mercies, Lebeaux.

Lebeaux leaned forwards against the desk as the occasional giggles turned to outright laughter. “We?” He repeated. “Who is ‘we’, Geofferaut!” He cackled as the geometry began again. His finger curled, depressing the switch once again re-connecting the circuit now that device had likely had some time to ‘cool down’ after the previous demonstration. Though this time his free hand slid into his pocket to remove the palm-sized pistol which he leveled calmly at Geoff to discourage him for making a physical attempt with the aetherial options cut off. “Enough of that.” He ordered calmly. The laughter having subsided rather sharply.

The change was instant. Glower returned to wide, panicked eyes. Under-exercised facial muscles went lax. Geofferaut’s eyes rolled to the door and he began a frantic, limping, hop toward it, blade lashing out at the screen. Geofferaut whispered a frantic, monotone litany. "Where is it where is it where is it where is it where is it whereisitwhereisitwhereisitwhereisitwhereisit..."

Luke shot a look over to Lebeaux.  "Shut tha' off 'gain y' daf' fool," he hissed. This was, even for the elezen, a little much.  Just a little, from what he knew. "Y' should b' happy seein' tha' it worked well 'nough, aye?"

Lebeaux kept the pistol trained even as he considered that. It was already too late for one of the paper partitions, he would have to have it all replaced as the panels tore easily under the wickedly sharp sleeve steel. “If I turn it off, it’s possible he’ll turn us inside out.” He offered cheerfully. Finally with a small and petulant sigh, as though he had been scolded for picking on his brother, he released the switch to break the circuit and return the aether levels to normal. “There is a latch on the door, Geofferaut.” He suggested. “It locks from the inside…”

Luke shoved the hammer back onto his belt as Geofferaut seemed intent on the door, watching Lebeaux with a slight shift of positioning.  Sadly, sadly, his tea was not going to get drunk it seemed. "Show summat faith fer folks an' soddin' shut it off 'fore y' collapse yer - wha' are y' two t' each o'r?"

Geofferaut righted his posture instantly when the device shut off. The gaze he turned on Lebeaux flickered between blank and seething hatred. "I can go now," he monotoned. His right arm flashed in Luke's general direction and steel flew, but not toward Luke. It aimed directly for the burning candles placed tauntingly atop a stack of paper.

Lebeaux still kept the pistol and his attention on Geoff. Watching the elezen’s strange, jerky motions as he tried desperately to get out of the warded room. He suspected it would be a very, very long time before the arcanist willingly stepped into his office, if ever. Worth it. “Can’t you tell.” He asked Luke with a smug smile, still not looking away from Geoff. “The same surname, such wonderful rivalry, a bit of harmless teasing… oh. Put that out, won’t you.” Lebeaux suggested to Luke as the knife glittered against candelabra, knocking it neatly over into the nearby parchment piles. That would be problematic momentarily if not tended to.

Luke did move from the flash of steel - he dodged to the side just enough that he didn't get the motion and feel of steel too, too close - but at the - "Why tha' seven 'r nine dusty hells y' soddin' put candles on tha' flammable books," he shot back, grabbing the candles from the pile and patting the sparking flames before they left more than scorches on the covers.  Your fault, Lebeaux.  "Soddin' brothers," he said dryly, low under his breath as he righted the candelabra.

Geofferaut's now free hand found and released the lock, eyes still alternately warily and menacingly on Lebeaux.

Lebeaux wasn’t much of a reader to begin with. The important medical text were kept safely up on the shelves where he could reference them. But much of the stuff scattered along the floor and used for aesthetic were junk volumes. It was entirely his fault. “Very good, Luke. Well done with the candles.” He agreed brightly, still smiiiling at Geoff. “Come now, Geofferaut. Don’t look at me like that. It was all a bit of harmless fun now, wasn’t it. You may go.” He offered, fingers tightening on the handle of the pistol but not the trigger, keeping as still as possible under the uncomfortable stare of the other elezen.

Geofferaut backed out of the office, stare not consistently blank, and shut the intact door behind him. Shame about the other side of the wall....

Lebeaux waited until the door was closed before he sank back into his chair with a shuddering sigh. “Hells.” He muttered on the sigh. “Fury have mercy, that was good.” He declared as he grinned the sort of stupid, faraway grin that usually came on the heels of an entirely different sort of satisfaction. “I had never even imagined.” He set the pistol down on the desk top and grabbed his journal, pulling it closer to scribble notes furiously. “I am entirely satisfied with your work, Luke. The remainder of your payment is on the sideboard, in the jar labelled ‘chammomile tea’.” He suggested without looking up.

Geofferaut unlocked the outer door and pulled it open. Before leaving, he laid his hand against the book by his side and muttered a quick incantation. Wards and protections permitting, the overstuffed chair, couch, several plants, and the food on the table smoldered and began to burn.

Luke shifted, looking at Lebeaux and letting out a sigh as he studied the elezen, a twitch of his mouth as he watched Leb.  "I-" The crackle of fire in the rest of the office got a hissed exhale - this was why he hated casters.  "Gla' yer satisfied... werked as intended an' when tha' soddin' fire isn't ragin' imma get me payment."

Geofferaut pulled the door shut tight behind him against another blade wedged in between it and the jamb.

Lebeaux glanced up at the smell of fire. “Oh.” He said flatly as he rose up to his feet and hurried over to the partition. He slid it open to find a merry bonfire of his favored items. At least the combustible ones. Rather than rush out he moved to the Hingan-style windows, unhooking the latches and throwing them open. More air for the fire but it should help save them from smoke inhalation. “I’d suggest keeping low to the floor and leaving through the door or a window. I’ll be attempting conjury.” Which could be equally as dangerous as the fire. He tugged a handkerchief from his pocket and held it over his nose and mouth as he hurried past the burning furnishings to his clinic, throwing the door open and starting the water pump.

Luke looked at the door and the screws holding the doorframe together. "...y' c'n get me payment unmelted la'r on," he quipped glumly, the tone of his voice placing the blame for this squarely on the elezen responsible.  "An' I'll head out through-" The handily opened windows in the office.  "-those."

@cellardoor-ffxiv  @glowinggunmetal

[blackrose-ffxiv]

House Derosiers Part 2 09/26

Geofferaut Derosiers led his limping 'brother' to the family home by the arm, the perfect picture of fraternal support. The house wasn't exactly large, but it was well kept and glows warmly from the windows. Geofferaut knocked three times on the front door. A middle-aged woman in a crisp domestic uniform answered momentarily with a smile that turned into shock that turned back into a smile, albeit a strained one. "Hello, Lord Geofferaut. It is good to see you. So.. soon."

Geofferaut marched Lebeaux through the door while reciting, "Hello Maureen it is good to see you may I present Lebeaux DESROSIERS." He emphasized the last name with an uptick in volume but no change in tone and continued, "You will bring boiling water cold water towels and bandages to my room."

Lebeaux Desrosiers limped awkwardly along beside Geofferaut as they approached the family home. The Derosiers were under the banner of the Haillenartes but visiting the lesser nobility at their homes wasn’t generally the done thing. Rather the vassal houses were occasionally invited to the High house for social functions and what have you. As such it was his first time seeing House Derosiers. Nice enough, he supposed, down to polite enough Help answering the door. Despite what he already knew of his un-brother the title was still somewhat jarring. Lebeaux banished the small wince and pasted his standard serene smile back on his face. Make a good impression. Wait to be introduced. Don’t pass out. He tilted his head in greeting to ‘Maureen’ as they marched past. “Good evening.” He muttered, briefly amused by Geofferaut’s emphasis on the name. “What a cozy home. How nice.” He offered.

Maureen ducked a curtsy, "Yes, m'Lord, right away. Thank you, m'Lord," and she was off at a brisk walk, just shy of undignified hurry.

Lebeaux waited until she was gone to drop the smile and return to wallowing in self-pity and generally eyeing up the place as they walked through it. “And it’s only your parents and the help here? Must be quiet.” He mused, still leaning on the taller man every other step. They arrived at the staircase and a small wheeze of dismay escaped. Which he quickly swallowed down before he made his way up the stairs, giving Geoff a brief respite as he hung onto the railing. Once they were up the stairs he didn’t protest but allowed himself to sit hard on the bed. “I’ve left my kits and effects behind. I’ll take something for the pain.”

Geofferaut's room was the polar opposite of his more familiar cellar workspace. Cushions and carpets gave it an overall padded feel, and as everywhere in the house, light was already blooming.

Lebeaux’s pale gaze drifted over the room. It was soft and warm. He had assumed it was a guest room or some such. He expected Geofferaut’s room to be an above ground version of his basement. Hard angles, cold materials and flat surfaces. “I’ve already begun treatment on my own, I simply didn’t have the aether to finish it.” He explained. “Surely that counts. Do you keep medical materials in the guest rooms? How unusual.”

"No. No." The apparent scion of a plush-crazed noble house withdrew a tied bundle from his robes and unrolled his medical tools on the desk. He supplemented the collection with herbs and vials pulled various drawers. "You will uncover the wound."

The only visible injury the medic carried was a slice along his cheek. That one has been carefully tended to and sealed with aether to ensure that it would heal without a scar. Lebeaux huffed in annoyance then lifted the edge of the robe up into his lap. The fabric of his trousers had already been cut open where a large piece of debris had been removed from his thigh. This injury hadn’t received near the same attention as the one on his face, only enough to prevent it from bleeding when the item had been removed from his skin. Residual traces indicated rocks and dirt, likely conjury. 

“I’ll have the pain relief before.” Lebeaux insisted again. “I’ve seen your treatment style. And if you said ‘no’, then why are there supplies here.”

Geofferaut paid much more attention to Lebeaux's uncovered thigh than he did to anything else. "Pain response is required to assess the effectiveness of the treatment. I keep supplies in my room." He carefully removed his gloves, laid them folded together on the desk -just so-, and splashed something that reeked of disinfectant on his hands. 

A barely audible tap at the door, followed by an equally soft, "Enter," from Geofferaut brought Maureen back into their lives, this time carrying two pots of water and a stack of clean, white linens. "You will place the water on the floor beside the subject's feet. You will place the towels and bandages on the bed beside the subject. I require nothing else."

Lebeaux huffed indignantly once again and began patting down his robes. He hadn’t brought a flask nor pipe along in case Gilbert chose to search the combatants before the duel. A good idea since the Knight had emptied the rest of his pockets afterwards. Nothing. Not even a basic potion. “I would prefer something before.” He insisted as the gloves were removed. Concern was intensifying. “… Your room?” He repeated in disbelief as he took another look around. “Impossible.” 

It was at that moment that Maureen arrived with the requested items and set about doing as Geoff instructed. “I’ll have tea.” Lebeaux chimed in once Geoff had declared his own needs met.

Maureen did as she was told without a word. Lebeaux's request seemed to catch her off guard. She stood paralyzed for a long moment, wide eyes darting between Lebeaux and Lord Geofferaut's back. She made up her mind and offered Lebeaux a small smile and a duck of her head before bowing out of the room. The door swung shut on silent hinges and latched with hardly a swish of metal against metal.

Geofferaut, for his part, selected a few gleaming tools, several packets of herbs, and a small silver mug with his scarred fingers. These he brought to the subject and arranged himself on the floor next to the rent thigh.

Lebeaux smiled politely in return. He suspected when it came to Geofferaut this was probably one of the least strange things any of the domestic staff had seen. Not to mention the entire ‘sworn to secrecy’ thing that usually came standard in Ishgardian terms of employment. For what that was worth. “She isn’t going to bring tea, is she.” He muttered mostly to himself. “Who arranged your room for you?” He attempted ‘small talk’, as well as that ever worked with Geofferaut, as a bit of distraction as he looked at the items being prepared. As well as the scars on the other’s hands.

"No. Mother."

Lebeaux probably should have expected that. “Refusing me tea is likely considered a violation of basic spoken rights since you won’t allow me pain relief.” He explained in annoyance, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Are all of those scars unfinished geometries.” He finally asked, something he had been meaning to poke into after the trip into Amdapor, but he had been busy making his displeasure with the expedition crew clearly known.

"No." While he stared fixedly at Lebeaux's thigh, Geofferaut's hands busied themselves scooping hot water into the mug and sprinkling one of the herb packets into it. It did not take long for the smell of Coerthan tea to fill the air.

Lebeaux blinked a moment when the familiar scent rose, tilting his chin up slightly to ensure he wasn’t imagining it amongst the smell of disinfectants and herbs. Nope, that was definitely tea. “Some are, some are not.” He puzzled. “The ones that are, that you used in the Lost City, did you make them yourself?”

Geoff placed the tea on the bed with a folded towel underneath to provide support lest it sink into the downy cloud of softness. "Yes." Visual exam complete, Geofferaut began to implement the course of treatment. First, the same strong antiseptic was splashed and rubbed onto the affected area, the act of rubbing a bare thigh somehow drained of all intimacy. One of the towels wiped away any loose dirt. Armed with tweezers and scalpel, Geofferaut next set to the task of removing the more stubborn and partially healed debris from the wound.

Lebeaux immediately picked up the mug and the towel to keep from burning his hands as though concerned it would be taken away again. Holding it somewhat protectively up near his chest since his lap was otherwise occupied. Yet for once he didn’t feel the need to make the teasing ‘while you’re down there’ comments. “How thorough, to go so far as the carve spells into your own skin.” He mused, breathing in the smell of the steeping tea. “What were the rest caused by?” He glanced down now, watching with little interest. A furrow of his brows or twitch of an eye here or there as difficult bits of debris were removed, but otherwise calm.

"Blades."

Not an accident or a beast or something like that. “Oh? Who were they caused by, then.” He hissed quietly as a well-embedded shard of rock was removed from the injury then busied himself with a drink of the hot tea. ‘Thank you’ wasn’t really in his vocabulary but at least he had stopped whining in appreciation for the small comfort. Even if it could have used cream and sugar.

@cellardoor-ffxiv

[blackrose-ffxiv]

The Other Other Other Brother? 07/19

Geofferaut Derosiers enters the Tradehouse stiffly. He also closes the door behind him stiffly. And stands stiffly. "Hello Lebeaux Desrosiers." The only parts of him that were animated were his eyes, perpetually scanning the room, and his fingers, flickings and twitching at the ends of his sleeve arhythmically.

Lebeaux Desrosiers had been on his way out. At least until he almost ran squarely into Geofferaut. He cringed internally but smiled sweetly at the statuesque, in the sense of being stiff and unmoving, elezen blocking the door. Perhaps it had been a mistake to give him the work address after all. “Good evening Geofferaut. What a pleasant surprise. I assume you received my gifts?”

"Yes. Probably."  Geofferaut's words lilted as much as he danced in the doorway, which is to say they did not. To call it monotone would imply any tone at all was there.

Idristan Agache meanwhile, had arrived before Geofferaut. Which he was now starting to think was an unfortunate thing, for as he comes up the stairs he finds himself caught between Lebeaux on one side, and a strange elezen blocking the door on the other. He casts Lebeaux a glare out of general principle, then turns to look at Geofferaut, eyes narrowing as the two talked. Just what sort of person would Lebeaux be giving gifts...? "A friend of yours Lebeaux?" he asks, his voice a touch curt.

Lebeaux blinked twice as he tried to figure out what the ‘probably was in reference to. “Will they suffice…” He trailed off at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. To find Idristan of all people. “Ah, I didn’t even know you were around.” The medic declared with a smug smile. “I would have invited you for tea…” He trailed off and looked between the two. “Geofferaut, this is Idristan Agache. One of my assistants.” He explained as he gestured to the whitehaired main. “Idristan this is…” Something clicked and the smile grew larger. “Geofferaut Derosiers.”

"Hello Idristan Agache. It is nice to meet you." Geofferaut recited the line like a child in a play who had been drilled on just those nine words for hours on end.

Idristan gives Lebeaux a scornful look that silently suggested what exactly Lebeaux could do with his tea. He doesn't react at being called an assistant, having apparently decided not to fight that one awhile ago. The name, however, does do the trick. His eyes widen in surprise as he stares at Geofferaut for several moments. Then they narrow as he starts to study Geofferaut hard. His stance has widened slightly, muscles tensing ever so slightly. "A... pleasure, I'm sure," he says, the words sounding extremely forced.

Lebeaux quirked a brow as he waited for the response to that one. Ah, there it was. Idristan did pride himself on being clever didn’t he. Just connected those dots right away, hm. “I did mention that I was enlisting the aid of an expert in my alchemical efforts. Now you’ve met him.” He noted. “Which I suppose would make Geofferaut something of my assistant as well.” He mused cheerfully. “Now you’ve all met. How nice.”

Geofferaut noted the change in stance as well as the six most likely exit routes in case of emergency (ranked several different ways depending on the origin and nature of the threat) as well as the fit of the mens' shoes as well as the wares on display on the shelves. "Oh. Okay."

Idristan finally drags his gaze away from Geofferaut to look at Lebeaux, one brow arched at this. "And he's just fine with that?" he asks, before looking back to Geofferaut. Sizing him up once more. "So he's the one that's been helping you with what you've been working on for me then," he says, his voice a touch flat. "That must be convenient, not having to look hard for an alchemist."

Geofferaut noted Idristan again. Harder. Until he heard the door open and skirted to the side. "Hello Rinha'li Dhavha."

Lebeaux slid over closer to Geofferaut casually. Trying to set his face a little more seriously to make what few similarities there more apparent. It wasn’t working, though. The entire situation was far too amusing. “It’s incredibly convenient. And yes, as he said,” a hand waved lazily towards Idristan. “He suffers from the very condition we’re seeking to treat. He’ll be our subject once we’re ready for live trials.”

Rinha'li Dhavha pokes his head into the door, obviously eager to get started with something. He has a ream of paper bound together with twine in his hands, and a stump of lead tucked behind his ear. His ears swivel around as he sees more faces than he was expecting -- luckily, they are for the most part familiar. "Ah--um--er...hello--Just--just Rin will do, I...um. Other guests?"

"The current subjects are living." Geofferaut corrected flatly.

Idristan was really not sure that he liked how Geofferaut said that, or how he was looking at him. "How... nice for you," he says dryly. He seems rather relieved to find that it's Rin that enters when the door opens, instead of another of Lebeaux's long lost siblings. However, this doesn't last long as he looks sharply back to Geofferaut. "Other subjects?" he repeats, turning it into a question.

“I...is there some kind of...um...meeting?” Rinha’li stuttered.

"Yes. No." Geofferaut answered in order, always in order.

Rinha'li blinks, trying to piece these answers to questions.

Lebeaux lifted his hand to smooth the lapels of his jacket. Well, the gang was all here, huh. “I had some surprise visitors. I assume Geofferaut came by to discuss the gifts I had sent to him. You were invited and Idristan, well he just happened to be lucky enough to meet another Derosiers while passing through.” Yep really lean hard on that same-name.

Rinha'li looks a little surprised. "You sent Mister Geofferaut a gift?" He says this in a tone that suggests he is shocked to hear Lebeaux has given anything to anyone, ever.

Idristan tilts his head slightly to one side, apparently trying to do much the same as Rin. "I see," he says slowly. He seems on the verge of asking more, but is distracted by Lebeaux. "Lucky is perhaps not the word I would have used," he states dryly. From the look on his face, he seems to share Rin's opinion on gifts.

Geofferaut must be Lebeaux's favorite brother.

“I did indeed.” Lebeaux said cheerfully, folding arms across his chest as he all but beamed at the others gathered there. This was incredibly awkward and he was savoring every moment of it. “Rinha’li has been assisting as well, to an extent. Perhaps you’d like to tell them a little more of your condition. They’ve only heard it from me thus far. Surely it’d be worth more straight from the chocobo’s mouth, as it was.” He tilted his head towards the far hallway and his office beyond.

Idristan blinks slowly at that as he looks at Rin, then perhaps relaxes ever so slightly. If Rin was involved, then this couldn't be so bad, right? That didn't mean that he was eager to be trapped in a room with Lebeaux and family, however. He folds his arms, lips twisting downwards into a scowl. "I highly doubt that there's anything more I can tell you that I haven't already," he grumbles.

"I have questions." Geofferaut stated.

@cellardoor-ffxiv  @roses-and-grimoires @black-omen-born